


a lesser light to rule the night

by motherofrevels



Series: valentine Bambi eyes (negative) [2]
Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Brotherly Love, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Growing Up, Incest, Lightfootcest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofrevels/pseuds/motherofrevels
Summary: Barley's gap year is coming to a close, and Ian finds himself dealing with the eventuality of losing two father figures in a single year.—Part 1/4 of the negative outcome timeline for 'valentine Bambi eyes'.
Relationships: Barley Lightfoot & Ian Lightfoot, Barley Lightfoot/Ian Lightfoot
Series: valentine Bambi eyes (negative) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731595
Comments: 16
Kudos: 63





	a lesser light to rule the night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction containing potentially triggering content, involving an underage minor engaging in incest with their elder sibling. If this bothers you, please feel free to check out some of the more amazing works of fiction by other, far more talented writers here on Archive of Our Own. Thank-you!

In the days following his 16th birthday, sunsets became a source of anxiety for Iandore. As days became weeks, he would visit the cliffs where he and his brother's first real adventure came to its bitter-sweet ending. Unable to control his emotions as he stood where his father once briefly walked the earth, he would gaze out until the great star sank beneath the waves. And as those weeks became months, the unique blend of warmth and longing he would experience from this almost-daily ritual, had been replace by numbness. 

A numbness that he found difficult to replace with genuine emotion.

Oh, how he tried. The after-school hangouts, the occasional party, the miniature adventures with his elder brother . . .

Doe eyes studied his expression in the bathroom mirror; the way his smile lifted his cheeks to cause temporary creases at the outer corners of them. He wore his mask well. He'd fooled everyone, so far. Even Barley.

Stepping away from the row of sinks before him, Ian made his way outside the school bathroom, taking to the halls in search of an escape before anyone had the chance to pull him into a conversation. 

He planned to make a beeline to the steep across from New Mushroomton High School—to spend the evening at what he'd dubbed he and his father's spot—only to find his older brother already pulled up outside, standing beside Guinevere the Second. He halted in his place, mouth searching for that nervous smile he'd practiced to perfection, shifting the weight of the backpack on his thin shoulders.

" _Climb aboard, young mage_!" Barley bellowed, chivalry and merriment coating Ian's ears like warm honey. Raising a mighty hand, he gave the hood of his trademark van a few heavy pats. " _Our next quest awaits!_ "

Ian chuckled dryly, brows furrowing as he watched his elder practically bounce into the driver's seat of his recently restored vehicle. Catching a glimpse of the custom paint job he'd surprised Barley with weeks ago on his way around to the passenger door—which reminded him to smile in genuine—Ian entered the van and slid into his seat, tossing his book-bag on the floor between his bony ankles.

"Where to?" he asked, tone steady and unfeeling. 

He watched the beginnings of sunset form in the direction he would have been headed in, if it hadn't been for Barley's interruption. He knew he could have declined the ride, but he also knew it would have caused concern. 

Barley found Ian at his 'secret' spot one evening a few months back, after the younger Lightfoot had missed several calls of concern from their mother. Ian was in shambles, and when he realized he'd been caught, he reacted quite poorly.

A shiver ran through him as he recalled the look of hurt and confusion on his elder brother's face.

> _The man's nose bled into the stubble on his upper lip and chin, strong arms holding Ian at bay as the boy screamed at him; a comet storm of blames and insults that cut Barley to his core. ' **I fucked up! It should have been me!** ' Ian wailed, tears and mucous mixing together at his delicate chin. ' **I fucking hate you! I just wanted him to hold me once! Just one time!** '_

Barley's heart was so broken, for a time. 

Ian had long-since apologized, and the two had done their best to make up. But the air between them was still tense at times, and Ian knew he only had himself to blame. How could he lose control that way? What had even come over him? His brother would never hurt him, so what made it so easy for him to hurt his brother? Time and time again?

"How 'bout a mushroom burger?" Barley chimed, a broad smile lighting his bristled mouth. "That sound okay? What are you in the mood for?—"

"I'm not really hungry," Ian interrupted. His confection-colored gaze flitted down to the bulky bag between his feet, before braving the inevitable journey to meet his older sibling's eyes. _'Of course,'_ he sighed inwardly, finding the golden-olive of his brother's weary stare filled with concern.

" _Ian_ ," Barley began, full brows knitting together as he tore his gaze from the younger elf's, settling instead on his steering wheel. " _Please_ eat something," he pleaded, bracing himself for what he knew was going to be an uncomfortable moment. He could see his baby brother's whole body stiffen in response, golden-brown eyes boring a hole into the side of his head.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Ian asked, voice icy as he waited for Barley's eyes to meet his. " _I eat every day_ —"

" _Yeah!_ But not the way you're _supposed_ to, and you _know_ it!" the elder elf barked, hazel eyes pleading as they met his junior's. " _Look_ , I don't wanna do this . . . But if you keep this up, I'm gonna _have_ to tell mom—"

"Tell mom _what?_ " Ian countered, cherubic features glazed with fresh venom. "Tell mom that I'm not eating as much as _you_ do? Who fucking _does_?"

With this, the lithe elf threw open his door and slid out of his seat, grabbing his bag before slamming Guinevere shut and storming off as fast is his legs would carry him.

" **Hey**!" Barley called after him, reflexes bounding into action as he fired up his noble steed. He did his best to trail alongside Ian. "Where are you going?!" he craned his neck to yell out his open window, half-keeping his eyes on the road. "Ian, _please_ —"

"Just leave me alone, _Barley_ ," Ian spat, tone flat as he moved through the sprinkling of people on the sidewalk (who watched the scene unfold).

The bigger man growled in frustration, baring his teeth as he sped onward, reaching an available parking area ahead of his sibling's trail and pulling in. He practically flung himself from Guinevere, sturdy legs carrying him with a swiftness that may have come as a surprise to the uninformed. His blood was on fire, fists clenched and teeth gritted as he rounded the sidewalk to barrel towards Ian. 

As if on-cue, the slender wizard caught sight of Barley—hulking form stomping toward him—thunderclouds billowing in his eyes. Everything in Ian's body told him to turn and run back the other way, but he found himself frozen in place.

"Don't fight me," Barley warned, gravel in his voice as he first ripped Ian's backpack from his arms—shouldering it—before lifting the boy off of the ground by the collar of his shirt. This action was immediately met with struggle, thin arms and legs kicking and swinging in self preservation, followed by pleading.

" **Barley! Put me down! You're hurting me!** " Ian cried, struggling against his captor to the best of his abilities. But he found himself easily tucked under one of his brother's dense arms, as if he were mere luggage. " **I'm sorry! I'm _really_ sorry! _Please!_** "

The elder Lightfoot said nothing, striding back in utter silence to his parked van.

Thick fingers yanked open Guinevere's back doors, and Barley tossed his frail cargo into the bed of his van effortlessly, before climbing in and closing them both inside.

Ian was doing his best to scramble away from his brother, but Barley's vice grip was at his shoulders before he could gain any real sense of balance. The strength in his elder's hands caused him to wince, and in that moment, Barley winced in return. 

" **You're fucking _hurting_ me!**" Ian shrieked, struggling against the sturdy elf's iron grip. " **Let me _fucking go!_** "

" _ **Stop screaming!**_ " Barley roared, filling Guinevere with the true might of his voice. This immediately halted his junior's struggle. Hazel eyes brimmed with tears, all traces of darkness scrubbed from their host's rugged features as he loosened his grip on the brittle boy before him. "Ian, _please_ ," his voice wavered, letting his fingers slide from bony shoulders to delicate wrists, "I love you _so fucking much_. But you're scaring the _hell_ out of me, bro . . ."

The willowy elf watched his brother's rage dissolve in an instant, sorrow budding in its place. But Ian was at a loss for words.

" _Please_ talk to me," Barley continued, voice cracking as he sank into a properly seated position, all the while squeezing the thin hands within his own. "I _know_ something's going on, but I need you to help me _understand_ ," he tried again, guiding Ian to sit with him.

Suddenly, the silence between them was deafening.

Barley's golden gaze traced the first signs of hollowing in his baby brother's freckled cheeks, and Gods did it make his chest ache. 

Lately, everything about Ian was out of sorts. His skin appeared thin and bruised, veins clearly visible to the naked eye. His once vibrant and bouncy curls were quickly following suit, having lost their former gleam and density. The once crystalline gloss to those beautiful brown baby-doll eyes had dimmed, bright sclera taking on a murky shade of Cinderella grey.

Laurel had noticed it too, of course. She'd asked him about it time and again. But she always gave in to Ian's sweet-talk. He would lie, and tell her he was simply studying too hard, had a big assignment coming up, was staying up too late working on a project, et cetera. Then he would give her one of those tender little kisses on her temple, and offer her a reassuring hug. And every time, she would swallow his bullshit. _Every single time_.

"Your gap year is almost over," Ian began, chocolate eyes softening, the hair on Barley's dense legs suddenly becoming a point of intense interest. "In a few weeks . . . _you'll be gone_." He could scarcely finish his statement, a familiar pressure building in his throat. "But _I'll_ still be here," he smiled wistfully, rolling his eyes as he felt them well with tears. "Here without _you_. Here without _Dad_ . . ." he trailed off, trying his best to swallow the lump in his throat. 

"Being the kid who always _stays out of the way_. Stays _safe_. Stays _cautious_. Always a _good boy_ ," he nearly sneered his last statement. "And you'll be doing _anything_ and _everything_ and _everyone_ you want. And having _all_ the fun you deserve, at _all_ the best parties, with _all_ the most beautiful girls." There came the tears, stinging his eyes; liquid crystal spilled to kiss his freckled cheeks. "A-and you _should_! Y-you deserve _all of that_! Because you're _amazing_ , and a-all _I_ can do is treat you like _shit_ . . ."

As Ian continued, a sliver of mania sliced through his voice; chest heaving as panic set in. He struggled to catch his breath as he rambled, "B-because I'm n-not really the boy everyone _thinks_ I am. I'm _not_ a g-good boy. A-and I don't even w- _wanna_ be a good boy. I-I mean, _who_ am I trying to impress? M-mom's so busy with _Colt_ ," he spat the officer's name, "sh-she hardly notices I _exist_ anymore. Y- _you_ were the one sh-she was always worried about, and I- _I_ was always the one she could _trust_. A-and now, you're l- _leaving_ me. A-and I _hurt_ you—" his hands trembled within Barley's as sobs racked his wiry frame. "I-I _hurt_ you, and I k- _keep_ hurting you, a-and _you_ keep l- _loving_ me, b-because you're a _f-fucking idiot_ —

Finally silenced by Barley's lips on his own, Ian sobbed into his brother's mouth, svelte body convulsing as he found the walls he'd erected around himself over the last several months came crumbling down around him.

Barley reached to support the younger elf's weight, feather light in his hands as he pulled his kiss away. " _Ian_ ," he began, his own voice quaking, " _Look_ at me." After a few disjointed heaves, Ian did as he was told; baby-face distorted by tears, mucous and saliva. " _Breathe_ with me," the bigger man instructed, one large hand guiding both of Ian's far smaller ones to his broad chest. "Five seconds in, five seconds out." And with this, he breathed. Steady. Even. Calm.

Ian, bracing himself on Barley's chest, attempted to follow suit.

At first, he couldn't catch his breath. The sobs and the hiccups and the hyperventilation were too much to fight through. But in time, he found that the breathing exercises had calmed him enough to focus. 

Timid hands drank in the warmth of Barley's core, as eyes reddened by tears zeroed in on his stubbled jaw.

" _Wanna run away together?_ " the older Lightfoot jested, bringing his knuckles to wipe the fluids from his sibling's face.

Ian couldn't help but smile—genuine, though hollow—as he leaned forward and into the soft musk of Barley's chest. "Where would you take me?" he murmured, grinning in full as he felt his elder brother puff his chest.

"I would usher you to the _very ends of our mortal world_ , should it _please_ you, milord," Barley gallantly professed, toughened fingers tracing patterns onto his younger brother's spine. His full brows furrowed then, grimacing as he felt how much weight Ian had truly lost. He wanted so badly to ask him what starving himself would achieve; in what way it could possibly assist him. 

And as if by magic, Ian answered.

"I'm _changing_ , Barley," the mage started, nestling his profound nose into the spiced warmth of his brother. "I'm _growing up_. B-but, I don't _wanna_ change. I-I like the way it _feels_ . . . To be _so small_ in your hands," he admitted, nearly cascading into another frenzy before catching himself. "It makes me feel s- _safe_ . . . I-I don't want things to _change_ ," he quivered, "I-I'm only ever really happy when I'm with you. A-and I don't want you to stop wanting me."

And just like that, it all made sense. 

Barley had hardly noticed the changes. They were very subtle: A little less awkward, and a little more proportionate, the childishness in his voice beginning to wane . . . 

But those weren't the reasons he loved Ian. 

He loved him for that spark of hope in his eyes when he was excited. He loved Ian for the way he flushed when his eyes lingered on him for too long. He loved him for the way he challenged him, and kept him guessing. But most importantly, because he was his baby brother.

It had always been up to Barley to protect Ian, a vow he made to himself from the moment his mother had brought the little pastel bundle back from the hospital. 

He'd learned a hard lesson, when he lost his father: A lesson in bravery. _True_ bravery. A challenging virtue, to be sure. To stand on his own and be a man, for all that being a man was worth. 

But through _Ian_ , he'd learned lessons in guidance, protection, and love. 

The one singular constant in his life, was that Ian was to be adored. Made to feel protected and cherished. To cultivate the gossamer glow of his heart's fire into a radiant prism; a lesser light to rule the night.

From very early on, his role as _The Older Brother_ shifted into his role as _The Father_. And that role still stood. 

Perhaps that would fade with time, as all things do. But the thought made Barley's heart ache, and in that moment, he knew he understood how Ian felt about his upcoming venture into university life.

 _Everything was changing_. 

He'd known this for some time, but had tried to cast reality aside. And so—as reality does—it was now crashing down on the two of them; its ethereal waves sweeping them apart and dragging them under.

" _Everyone_ changes," Barley finally replied, breathing in the soft sweetness of Ian's curls. " _I'm_ changing _too_. _We're_ changing _together_." With this, he wrapped his arms around the slighter elf's willowy frame; gently squeezing brittle bones he was never so afraid he might break. "But I don't _ever_ want you to feel like you need to stay the same for _me_ ," he placed a firm kiss into Ian's sapphire locks, "I'm _always_ gonna love you. You're my _brother_ , Ian." He felt the junior Lightfoot relax a into him just a little more. " _Besides_ , you'd still be sexy with some meat on your little bird bones." 

He could feel Ian giggle into his chest, and that made him melt. 

"Good, because I'm _hungry_ ," Ian pouted, raising his head to study Barley's face for a moment, then closing the space between their lips.

Ian recognized that he was to be the one with all the magic, but Barley's kisses were a spell all his own. Sparks flew behind closed eyes as he braved an exploration into his elder's seemingly uncertain mouth. Their tongues swirled and danced; familiar, but somehow brand new with every kiss.

A calloused hand pushed Ian away for another steady glance, golden eyes holding chocolate for a moment.

"You sure you're down for this?" the sturdy elf inquired. Dense brows quirked as he searched his younger brother's face for an answer, which he received in the form of a second kiss; a little deeper, and a little more desperate. 

"Aren't _you_?" Ian countered, raising slender arms to lock around his sibling's neck, and thin legs shifting to wrap around Barley's solid waist.

Hazel eyes darted this way, then that. " _Right here? Right now?_ We're not that far from your school," the elder Lightfoot reasoned, heart sinking at the distraught expression it brought to his baby brother's face.

"Y-you don't _want me_ right now?" Ian attempted to purr, but his tone relayed his anxiety.

Barley scoffed, leaning in to place a quick kiss on his brother's pouting lips. "Baby, I would _fuck you stupid_ right here on the floor of this van," Barley boasted, followed by another kiss. " _But_ , I also don't wanna go to jail." He smirked then, leaning in to grumble, "At least not without you."

The smaller boy couldn't hold back a giggle; Barley grunting to a stand with Ian still anchored around him. A few more kisses, and Ian unwound himself from his senior, the two making their way back to the front of the van and buckling themselves in.

" _Now_ ," Barley began again, firing up Guinevere, "about those _burgers_ . . ."

"I'll take one," Ian smiled, trademark sheepish expression lighting his features as the engine roared to life.

"Aha! _That's_ the spirit!" Barley bellowed, the sun's final rays bathing the road before them in golden light. " _To adventure_!" 

As they sped off into the amber painted horizon, butterflies flitted through Ian's empty stomach. He couldn't help but laugh. A full, genuine, tearful laugh. The weight of all his fears he'd shouldered for so long, seemed to vanish into the æther.

This _too_ , was Barley's magic. A maelstrom of hope and jubilance to champion all others. The living embodiment of the intensity, passion and white-hot heat of a newborn star; a greater light to rule the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone manages to enjoy this! I'm also always open to receiving constructive criticism. Thank-you so much for stopping by!


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